The Prince Abaddon Affair
by alynwa
Summary: Originally written for the 7 Day Halloween Challenge on LJ. A different photo was the prompt for each chapter. To see the prompts, I have also posted this tale on AO3 with pictures.
1. Chapter 1

"Illya, that's the creepiest thing I've ever seen!" Napoleon and his partner were searching the seemingly deserted house of a THRUSH associate. Ronald Halsey, or as he preferred to be known, Prince Abaddon, had kidnapped the daughter of an English multimillionaire and was suspected in the kidnapping of three other women. Scotland Yard had requested UNCLE's assistance when their investigation stalled. Section IV had been able to identify this small house as belonging to him and Mr. Waverly had dispatched his best team to search for clues to the women's whereabouts.

The two agents were standing in the living room. They had both been shaken to enter an upstairs room and see four women sitting unmoving with their backs to the door. "Ladies," Napoleon had said, "are you being held here against your will?" When no response was forthcoming, they walked around to face them and were stunned to discover these were not the women they sought, but four life – sized mannequins dressed in what Napoleon's mind were prairie dresses. Their hair was similarly styled; shaved in the front and hanging in curly waves in the back. Makeup had been meticulously applied to each.

"Napoleon, those… _things_ resemble the women we've been searching for, disturbingly so. I am also, how do you say? 'Creeped out.' I suggest you request a cleanup crew from the London office to bring them to the lab to search for clues."

A scraping sound coming from upstairs drew their attention. They went swiftly up the stairs, pulling their weapons from their holsters as they moved. They hadn't spoken, but each knew what the other was thinking: They had obviously missed a hiding spot and Prince Abaddon was trying to escape.

They reentered the room with the mannequins and rechecked the walls and the floors as they looked for hinges that would indicate a door, but were having no luck. Illya was inspecting the floor in front of the doll like figures when realization hit. "Napoleon," he breathed as he straightened up and moved closer to the door, pulling on his partner's arm.

"What is it, Illya?" He was feeling a bit annoyed at being yanked.

"Look at them," Illya whispered, "When we were in here earlier, the one in the blue dress was sitting where the one in the mustard dress is now! And the other two have switched places, as well.

Napoleon looked at the dummies' backs and a chill ran down his spine as he realized Illya was right. "Let's contact the London office from the car," he said as he led the way downstairs.

Neither man was surprised when the clean-up crew reported hours later that there were no mannequins to be found in the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Napoleon and Illya were in London HQ perusing all the information Section IV had gathered on Prince Abaddon and the missing women. Illya's large horn rim frames hung dangerously low on his nose as he sat silently, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, trying to find any connection between the kidnapped women while Napoleon was studying Abaddon's background.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Tovarisch," the CEA sighed as he leaned back in his chair. They were in one of the conference rooms, the remnants of their lunch on the credenza behind them. "There's been no ransom demands made for any of these women and from what I'm finding out, I don't think there's going to be any."

"What do you mean, Napoleon?"

"This Halsey guy is nuts. He seems to think he's the Devil on Earth. Abaddon is actually another name for Lucifer. He's the leader of a devil worshipping cult that meets in the English countryside monthly. I wonder…" He reached for the phone in the middle of the table. "Miss Taylor? Hi, this is Napoleon Solo down in Conference Room B. I need someone in Intel to check to see if there were similar kidnapping cases last October. I need that as soon as possible. You'll put someone on it? Thank you so much. I owe you dinner. What? Your fiancé won't mind, I'm sure. A jealous rugby player, you say. My loss, I'm sure." He smiled as he hung up the phone.

"Napoleon, what are you thinking? Besides the obvious, I mean."

"There's been no demands for ransom, no blackmail attempts on the multimillionaire; these women have all vanished into thin air. October is sometimes called 'The Devil's Month.' Black Masses are rumored to be held weekly during this month. What if we're looking at this all wrong? What if this has less to do with _who_ these women are and everything to do with _what_ they are?"

"What are they?"

"Young, pretty, single. One could assume virginal. The perfect sacrifice for a Black Mass."

Just then, someone knocked on the door. "Enter!" Illya called.

A man entered wearing a Section IV badge. "Agent Solo? I was told to get this to you immediately." He handed a manila file folder to the CEA and left.

"Thank you!" Napoleon called to the closing door before opening the folder. He handed the papers inside to Illya, who read it aloud.

"October 1959 and again in 1960, five women disappeared in London, apparently the victims of kidnappings, though no ransom demands were ever received by the families. None of the ten were ever heard from again." He flipped through to the pictures and bios of the women. "All young, pretty and single. One could assume virginal. Why did no one see this before?"

"Probably because all the women, with the exception of this last girl, were from lower income families. Sadly, poor girls from poor families who go missing don't sell newspapers like our missing heiress. I think all fourteen victims are dead."

The Russian was skeptical. "Sacrificed during Black Masses? I find that hard to believe."

"Yet you found it easy to believe that inanimate objects can play Musical Chairs."

Illya shifted uneasily in his chair. "You are my witness, Napoleon. We both know what we saw and there was no one else in that house! I admit that as a scientist, the idea of the supernatural is not something I accept easily, but ever since we spent the night in that infernal cabin in the woods, I realize there are things in this world that defy explanation."*

The phone rang and Illya answered. He grabbed a pencil and paper and wrote down whatever he was being told. "Thank you," he said before dropping the handset back into its cradle. "Intel just located a house in Battersea that belongs to a company that belongs to Abaddon."

Napoleon was up and putting on his jacket. "Let's go."

An hour later found the two men hidden in the tall hedges that surrounded the unlit house. Illya had shaken the bushes and meowed like a cat to see if any dogs appeared. Hearing and seeing none, he quickly approached the house while Napoleon covered his back, joining him when they both deemed the coast clear. The Russian used his lock pick to gain entry through the back door.

They realized they were in the kitchen. Illya went into the basement to clear it while Napoleon opened all the cabinet and pantry doors. When Illya came back, they methodically cleared the rest of the house using penlights to see. When they were satisfied they were alone, they turned on a few lamps. Napoleon saw something on the wall that spooked him.

Pointing, he said, "Illya, look at that."

The smaller man stepped forward to examine the picture Napoleon was referencing. "It almost looks like Catholic clergy in the front few rows, but how are their eyes glowing? Do you think it is a picture manipulation?"

"What would be the point? I think this is either before or after a Black Mass. They're channeling Satan." He reflexively made the sign of the cross. "Hey, look at the guy third from the left in the front row; that's Abaddon. Illya, I think this picture was taken last year or the year before!"

"He has a large church," Illya remarked, "If you are correct, there will most likely be a Black Mass scheduled for this coming weekend or even Halloween night. In any event, they will need the last sacrifice; they will be looking to kidnap another woman. We have to stop them!"

"Let's get out of here before somebody comes," Napoleon said. He pulled his mini – camera from his pocket and took a picture of the photograph. "We can study this later."

*ref. to my tale, "The Truest Thing"


	3. Chapter 3

Prince Abaddon was unhappy which made him dangerous. The main reason for his unhappiness was currently quaking in her shoes as she faced his wrath.

"My Prince, I am so sorry! I had no idea who she was!" she cried as she tried to explain.

"Silence! We approach the most important Black Mass of the year and instead of spending my time properly preparing, I am bouncing all over southern England to avoid capture by UNCLE!" He walked closer to the woman he was addressing. Leaning down to stroke her face he said, "Now, Lilith, what do you think I should do to punish you? If you hadn't grabbed that rich man's daughter, I wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't go near my home or my safe houses as UNCLE has found out the names of my shell companies that are listed as the property owners. I now have to find another place to hold my Mass." He drew his index fingernail sharply across her neck, leaving a deep scratch.

Lilith gasped at the sudden pain. "Please, My Prince, let me help you! I know the perfect place for the ceremony!"

"Do you now?" He was a tall, heavyset man and when he hunkered down in front of her, he looked like a beast about to leap. The fact that his eyes were glowing red didn't make her feel any better. "Do tell."

"There's a deconsecrated church in a deserted medieval village located outside of Exeter. It's large enough to accommodate everyone. The alter is the perfect size, I measured it myself. I was going to tell you about it as an offering to you."

Prince Abaddon straightened up and paced to the opposite side of the room. "And now, you offer it in exchange for your life? I admit, it's very good, but it's not enough." He held out his hand toward her and closed it into a fist.

Lilith began to gasp and choke. She slid out of the chair and he watched as the life faded from her eyes. When she was dead he said, "You will make up for all this unwanted attention by creating a diversion."

"Well, _that_ didn't go too well," Napoleon said. He and Illya were driving back to their hotel after a meeting at Scotland Yard during which Napoleon had advanced his theory and been shot down by the snickering detectives.

"To be fair, Napoleon, if they had come to us with such a theory, we, especially I, would have laughed them out the door. They did not do that."

"They might as well have. We're definitely on our own with this, Partner Mine."

Just then, Napoleon's communicator trilled. Assembling it quickly, he answered, "Solo here."

"Hello, Agent Solo, Miss Taylor here. An anonymous tip was called into a constabulary in Northern England that I thought might interest you. The tipster said there was some kind of Satanic ritual being conducted in a deserted village outside of Carlisle. When they arrived, no one was there except a female corpse dressed in a sheath with feathers in her hair and beads and Baphomet pendants hanging from her neck. That pendant is usually a goat's head inside of a pentagram. It is said to embody Satan. The body was found lying on the alter."

"Has she been identified?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"Thank you, Miss Taylor. It would be very helpful to know who she is. Please stay in touch with those officers and when and if they identify her, please let me know. Solo out." He disassembled the device without saying goodbye, a fact not lost on Illya.

"It is not your fault, Napoleon. How could we know that Abaddon would hold his last Black Mass in Northern England?"

"Then why do I feel like it is? I don't know how to strategize against the supernatural and Satanism! This woman lost her life! The least we can do is see that she is identified and her family notified. If the Carlisle police can't do it, I want UNCLE to step in and get the job done."

The Russian took his right hand and patted his partner's shoulder. "We will find out who she is and we will find Abaddon."


	4. Chapter 4

Napoleon reported to Mr. Waverly his theory that the missing heiress was not kidnapped for ransom, but rather that she was grabbed by mistake and had probably been sacrificed during a Black Mass. He felt silly at first, but as he was able to show that women had been reported missing the previous two Octobers who were all similar in age, marital status and general appearance, with the most glaring difference being that thirteen of the women were poor, he was not dismissed out of hand.

"Unfortunately, Sir, we were unable to find this Abaddon before the fifteenth victim was sacrificed."

"That is a bad business, Mr. Solo, very bad, but it would appear that even though this Abaddon fellow is known to THRUSH, they are not involved in his ridiculous delusion about being the Prince of Darkness; therefore, I see no reason for you and Mr. Kuryakin to remain in London. I now consider this a local law enforcement issue."

"Mr. Waverly, I'd like your permission for Illya and me to remain in England a bit longer. I feel responsible for this young lady's demise and once she is identified, I would like to be the one to inform the family. The local authorities where the body was found have agreed that I can."

A long – suffering sigh came through the CEA's communicator. "Very well, Mr. Solo, you have until the thirty – first to accomplish that task. If her identity is not known by then, I expect you and Mr. Kuryakin in New York Headquarters the next day."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you." Napoleon looked at his partner who had been quietly eating his dinner and listening to the exchange. "Well, that's settled."

Illya gestured toward the covered dish across the table from him. "Eat your dinner, moy droog. There is nothing we can do tonight."

"Oh, yes there is. We can get drunk, which is my plan for tonight."

The next day, both agents awoke early, showered, dressed, ordered room service and then sat around like caged tigers waiting for something to happen. When the room's phone rang, they both jumped before Illya answered it. "Yes, I have a pen." He wrote as his partner watched. When he hung up he said, "Our victim's name is Lilith Bigglesworth and her parents live in Chiswick. They are both retired."

"Let's go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can fly home."

An hour later, they were ringing the Bigglesworths' doorbell. A man answered. "Yes?"

"Sir, my name is Napoleon Solo and this is my associate, Illya Kuryakin from the UNCLE," Napoleon responded as he and Illya showed their ID cards. "I'm sorry, but we have bad news about your daughter, Lilith."

The man stepped aside. "Come in, please." He closed the door behind the two men. "Walk straight ahead to the living room." When they did, he gestured toward the couch that they should sit. "My wife is making tea. Care for some?"

Napoleon spoke, "No, thank you."

Mrs. Bigglesworth entered the room carrying two cups of tea. Handing one to her husband, she sat and looked at her husband expectantly.

"My dear, these two young men are from the UNCLE and they have news about Lilith."

She put her tea down. "She's dead, isn't she?" At their nod, she said, "I knew that one day, that Abaddon creature would be the death of her!"

Both men perked up their ears. "Madam," Illya said, "your daughter knew Prince Abaddon?"

"Oh yes, she was a disciple of his; had been one for years. We tried to get her away from him on numerous occasions, but she was devoted to him."

Napoleon stood and replied, "We are so very sorry for your loss and wanted to convey our condolences, but we must leave. Thank you for receiving us."

As Illya drove toward London's UNCLE HQ in the pouring rain Napoleon said, "Abaddon almost got away with fooling us! I was blaming myself for Lilith's death so much that I wasn't thinking clearly! He killed her as a diversion, to make us think we were too late to stop the Black Mass and the last sacrifice. I would bet my life that he will hold that Mass on Halloween night, his next victim is still out there and the Mass will be somewhere in Southern England!"

Illya pushed down harder on the gas. "We have to get answers soon. Halloween is almost here!"

Napoleon observed his partner literally drive down the middle of the road to pass slower moving vehicles. "Illya, I said I'd bet my life on my hunches, not your driving!" he yelled as they whipped around a corner.


	5. Chapter 5

Lord Abaddon stood on a hill overlooking a village that had been deserted since the ninth century. He was feeling very upbeat. Down below there was a large deconsecrated church that was going to be the site of the largest Black Mass of the month. The investigations into the missing women, though not stopped, had slowed down considerably after the discovery of Lilith's body.

 _The authorities think I have already conducted my Black Mass. Thank you, Lilith, for telling me about that other village and providing that compelling piece of evidence; I will thank you personally one day for the use of your body._

He looked down and began to picture how the Mass would go, from his worshippers arriving and filling the church to the invocations raised to honor and worship him, the supplication of new converts and finally, the sacrifice of the virgin. All for him. All for _him._

He could feel his power starting to pulse through him. He allowed it to rise and he directed it into the town itself, which began to glow with hellfire. He allowed the flames to rise until it began to light the sky. He lifted his left hand above his head and then quickly moved it all the way left extinguishing the flames as if they had never existed.

As he turned away he thought, _It is so good to be me._


	6. Chapter 6

Napoleon was feeling beyond frustrated. "Arrrgh!" he shouted as he threw a phone book across the hotel room he shared with Illya.

Illya looked up from the picture of the picture Napoleon had taken at Abaddon's house. He removed his glasses and looked at his partner who was now standing at the window staring at the night. "Napoleon, enough. We have been going over this all day and we have made very little progress."

"You mean we've made _no_ progress! Halloween is in less than a week and I have no idea how to stop this madman! No one does!"

The Old Man had given them until the thirty – first to identify the woman found dead outside Carlisle and notify her family. Napoleon had decided that he would keep the fact that they had already spoken with her family to himself and use the remaining time to track down Prince Abaddon. He had told Illya he would not be offended if he decided to head back to New York.

"Blockhead," the blond had responded, "And how would I explain to Mr. Waverly that I am in New York and you are not? We will do this together or not at all."

The Russian was becoming concerned about his partner. _He just looks so defeated,_ he thought. Aloud he said, "We have not taken a break in hours. I am ordering dinner from room service and we will eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Illya got up and walked to where Napoleon was standing. "Moy droog, you do no one any good by going hungry. You need some time away from this so when you look at it again you will have fresh eyes." He patted his partner's shoulder. "Look at the menu."

In addition to dinner, Napoleon had ordered that a bottle of single malt scotch and a decent vodka be sent. He had to admit, he did feel better and the two glasses of liquor had mellowed him nicely. He leaned back on his bed and kicked his shoes off. "I'm going to take a nap. Don't let me sleep longer than two hours."

 _He was walking along a road. Ahead of him on the right stood a large church. On a whim, he walked inside. At the front, to the right of the altar stood a baptismal font. He began to walk towards it and he noticed that the closer he got, the larger it became until it was the size of a large children's pool. That's when he noticed a pair of feminine – looking hands sticking out of the water. Leaping forward, he grabbed them and pulled a woman from the impossibly small pool. He didn't understand how she could have been completely submerged is a kiddie pool, but there she was._

 _Gasping and sputtering for air, the woman was finally able to say, "Thank you! You saved me with the water. You saved me!"_

 _Confused, he said, "I pulled you out of the water."_

" _But you saved me with it! You saved me with it, with it, with it…"_

Napoleon shot straight up on the bed, startling his partner. "Why didn't I think of this before?" he said as he went to the room service cart and grabbed the salt. Reaching for the phone he called Room Service again and Illya listened in astonishment at the half of the conversation he could hear. "Hello? Do you happen to have bottled water? You do. Excellent. How many? I want all of it. Yes, I'm serious. Oh, and two boxes of salt. Also, could you please connect me with the concierge? Thanks." After a moment, he said, "Yes, I'm Napoleon Solo in room 1550. Can you get me four water pistols?" He ended the call and turned to see the Russian staring at him as if he had grown another head. "What?"

"Napoleon, you wake up from a sound sleep and place an insane order with room service, what is happening?"

"I had a dream that I think has given me the answer! Illya, we talked about this before," he said as he walked to the table with the picture of the glowing – eyed Abaddon and his congregation. Putting his finger on it he said, "You said it yourself: He has a large church. UNCLE identified all the properties owned by his companies so he can't have his Black Mass where he originally wanted to…"

"So, he needs to relocate to a place large enough and private enough to conduct the service," Illya continued. "Since Lilith was found in a deserted Middle Ages village in the North, perhaps he has found a suitable village in Southern England."

"Here's what I need you to do, Tovarisch: Go to UNCLE London and work with Intel to identify medieval villages that have large churches that are deconsecrated. If I remember correctly, it has to be deconsecrated for the Devil to enter. Tell the CEA that we will need a Strike Team to arrive at the village you identify no later than eleven – thirty the night of the thirtieth."

"Fine, that will take the rest of the night. What will you be doing, may I ask?"

Just then, there was a knock on the door. After checking the peephole, he opened it to reveal a bellhop with a hand truck container five cases of bottled water topped with two boxes of salt and a bag containing water pistols. "Thank you, young man," he said as he signed for the delivery and tipped him generously. He let the bellhop out and after closing the door behind him, he turned back to Illya and said, "Isn't it obvious, Partner Mine? I'll be making Holy Water."

Illya left for Headquarters and Napoleon began his preparation. First, he scrubbed the bathtub until it sparkled. When he was finally satisfied, he put in the stopper and began emptying the bottles into the tub. When he finished that, he went back into the room, pulled the Holy Bible from the nightstand drawer, put it on the bathroom sink and then got the salt. _I'm pretty sure I remember how to consecrate the salt._ Holding one in each hand, he held them up and recited, "The Blessing of the Father Almighty be upon this Creature of Salt, and let all malignity and hindrance be cast forth hence from, and let all good enter herein, for without Thee man cannot live, wherefore I bless thee and invoke thee, that thou mayest aid me."

He put the salt down and picked up the Bible. Turning to Psalm 103, he read it aloud. "Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies; Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust. As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more. But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children's children; To such as keep his covenant, and to those that remember his commandments to do them. The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens; and his kingdom ruleth over all. Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word. Bless ye the Lord, all ye his hosts; ye ministers of his, that do his pleasure. Bless the Lord, all his works in all places of his dominion: bless the Lord, O my soul."

Putting the Bible down again, he opened the two boxes of salt and began to pour them into the tub full of bottled water. "I exorcise thee, O Creature of Water, by Him Who hath created thee and gathered thee together into one place so that the dry land appeared, that thou uncover all the deceits of the Enemy, and that thou cast out from thee all the impurities and uncleanness of the Spirits of the World of Phantasm, so they may harm me not, through the virtue of God Almighty Who liveth and reigneth unto the Ages of the Ages. Amen."

"Our help is in the name of the Lord. Who made heaven and earth. God's creature, salt, I cast out the demon from you by the living God, by the true God, by the holy God, by God who ordered you to be thrown into the water-spring by Eliseus to heal it of its barrenness. May you be a purified salt, a means of health for those who believe, a medicine for body and soul for all who make use of you. May all evil fancies of the foul fiend, his malice and cunning, be driven afar from the place where you are sprinkled. And let every unclean spirit be repulsed by Him who is coming to judge both the living and the dead and the world by fire. Amen."

He heard Illya's coded knock and then his room key go into the lock. He could only imagine what the Russian thought when he came to the bathroom door and saw his partner holding two boxes of salt over the water. He silently signaled Illya to be quiet when he saw he was about to speak. Turning forward again, he poured the last of the salt into the tub while he said, "May this salt and water be mixed together; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

He put the boxes down, placed his hands together to pray, bowed his head and said, "God, source of irresistible might and king of an invincible realm, the ever-glorious conqueror; who restrain the force of the adversary, silencing the uproar of his rage, and valiantly subduing his wickedness; in awe and humility we beg you, Lord, to regard with favor this creature thing of salt and water, to let the light of your kindness shine upon it, and to hallow it with the dew of your mercy; so that wherever it is sprinkled and your holy name is invoked, every assault of the unclean spirit may be baffled, and all dread of the serpent's venom be cast out. To us who entreat your mercy grant that the Holy Spirit may be with us wherever we may be; through Christ our Lord. Amen." He remained unmoving for about half a minute before stepping back to turn and face Illya. "Sister Mary John would be so proud to know how much I remember from my Religion classes. Did you have any luck?"

"Um, yes. I brought a map to show you." The blond was still flummoxed to see his partner in shirt sleeves praying over a bathtub of salted water. He unrolled the map and spread it on the table. "Here, outside Exeter, is a village that seems to fit what you described; it has a large deconsecrated church in the middle of it that would probably suit Abaddon's needs." He sat and watched Napoleon study the map.

"I agree, Illya, this is most likely the place."

"Napoleon, what is your plan, exactly?"

"I know this sounds nuts, Partner, but that dream I had put things into perspective and showed me how to prepare. I'm taking a two – pronged approach: We will advise Scotland Yard that we believe this wackjob Abaddon will be there on Halloween with a kidnap victim and ask them to provide a rescue team to go along with an UNCLE Strike Team to apprehend him and save the girl."

"We have not heard of a kidnapping."

"Halloween is four days away; someone will go missing, I'm sure of it."

"All right and the second prong?"

"The second prong is that you and I and the UNCLE Strike Team will be armed with water pistols filled with Holy Water to destroy the demons and send Satan and his minions back to Hell. And save the girl, of course."

"Of course."

Napoleon sat on his bed and ran his hand through his hair, ignoring the forelock that refused to stay in place. "Do you know what the Mossad's 'Tenth Man' exercise is?"

"I do not."

"When the Mossad gets information, if nine men agree with it, the tenth man must look for ways to prove it can't be true or if the nine disagree, the tenth has to look at it as the literal truth. No one believes Roger Halsey is really Prince Abaddon, so I must because if I'm right and Scotland Yard and UNCLE go to this village to confront a man and his cult, we will die, but if we go to confront the Devil and only encounter a man and his cult, it will only be the usual danger level."

Illya looked toward the bathroom. "Do you not need a priest to create Holy Water?"

"It's preferred, but not necessary. I have two funnels; help me refill these bottles. In the morning, I have to call Miss Taylor and convince her to buy a boatload of water pistols."


	7. Chapter 7

Halloween Eve found Napoleon, Illya, CEA of UNCLE London Chester Higgins and his Strike Team hunkered down in several houses across from the front of the church. Napoleon had contacted Scotland Yard two days earlier to apprise the staff he had spoken with days ago that UNCLE believed Abaddon would be at this location early Halloween morning with the young woman who had been reported missing three days earlier. Those detectives plus their team were hidden in the buildings that faced the rear of the church. The plan was to wait until Abaddon and the woman entered it and then quickly surround the church and demand he surrender.

Illya had watched earlier as Napoleon had briefed Higgins and the Strike Team about the mission at HQ. When Napoleon handed out the water pistols that were shaped like Lugers and explained their purpose, Illya turned to stare at the agents with an expression that dared them to laugh. Each agent received two water pistols filled with Holy Water plus a twenty-ounce bottle to tuck into their suit pockets. "Remember, if there's trouble, use your Walthers first, but if you see them having no effect, don't hesitate to use the water guns."

One agent had raised his hand. "Excuse me, Sir, but will the Scotland Yard chaps also be carrying these?"

"No, I couldn't convince them to do so. If the water guns become necessary, if you can, throw your second gun to them."

Illya checked his watch. It was now eleven – fifty PM. The Russian was worried, Napoleon had told both teams to expect at least one hundred people to attend the Black Mass, but not a single person had who was not a member of UNCLE or Scotland Yard had appeared. If Abaddon failed to show up, Napoleon's credibility would be destroyed and he would be an object of ridicule for years to come.

Lights appeared around the curve of the road leading into the village. Everyone instinctively ducked down as the car, a black London cab, came to a halt in front of the church. The driver killed the lights and the engine, exited the vehicle and went around to the other side and opened the back door. A young woman, wrist bound and mouth gagged, was dragged out of the car by her arm followed by a man who wasn't Abaddon who grabbed her other arm and then both men guided her inside the church.

Napoleon used the walkie – talkie the Scotland Yard lead detective had given him for this operation. "James, I guess either Abaddon and his group are running late or they're not coming. Either way, we have the girl in sight. Let's move in now to get her and we'll worry about him later."

"Roger that, Solo. Synchronize your watch, it's now eleven fifty – seven. Mark."

"Mark. We move at eleven fifty – nine. See you inside." Napoleon looked at Higgins and Illya who spread the word to the team.

At exactly eleven fifty – nine, both teams began to creep to the church, fanning out with the idea that some will burst through the front and rear doors while others come through the windows.

Suddenly, at exactly midnight, an intensely bright light emanated from the building as voices began to chant in a language that sounded very like Latin. Everyone froze for an instant in confusion. Illya stared back at Napoleon and when the CEA used his left hand to pull his Water pistol, Illya did the same and motioned for the rest of the team to follow their lead.

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Agents burst into the church to see at least a hundred to one hundred and fifty "people" with glowing eyes and wearing robes singing what sounded like Gregorian chants. Prince Abaddon was at the altar wearing a red hooded robe with a dagger in his hand. Upon the altar lay the woman they had seen brought into the building.

When the entire congregation turned to confront the teams, the Scotland Yard agents and a few of the UNCLE agents fired. Napoleon saw that the Yard's bullets and his team's sleep darts were ineffective he yelled, "Use the Water!" before squirting the figure nearest him full in the face. The sound that came from it was inhuman. Another squirt and it literally melted away, leaving only the robe it had been wearing.

When Illya and Napoleon would talk about this night, they would always agree that watching that robe flow gracefully to the floor was the turning point. Some UNCLE agents were shooting both their plastic Lugers while other managed to toss their spare to the Scotland Yard people. Napoleon and Illya raced to the front of the church where the CEA took his Water bottle and doused the woman with the Water which caused Abaddon to back away from her before squeezing the bottle so that the Water shot out of it and hit Abaddon in the chest. The glow left his eyes and he dropped to the floor unconscious.

Immediately, the church was plunged into darkness. Everyone started frantically reaching for flashlights, lighters and even matches. As more and more agents could see, they were shocked into silence.

Illya had moved up to stand next to his partner who was busy untying the woman who was understandably hysterical. He bent down to check Abaddon. "He's breathing," he stated. Straightening up again, he saw what everyone else was seeing. "Napoleon," he said, "Look around us." He signaled for Detective James to come get the woman and take her outside.

With the crying woman out of his arms, Napoleon did as Illya said. Abaddon was still unconscious as were the two men who had brought in the girl. All of the robes were lying on the stone floor. Empty. Well, empty except for the four lifeless mannequins they had first seen in Roger Halsey's home.

CEA Higgins stepped forward and shook Napoleon's hand. "When you handed us those water pistols and told us why, I thought you were cracked. I will never doubt you again. But, _how did you know?_ "

Napoleon tapped himself in the chest. "Tenth man."

A few days later, Illya and Napoleon were back in New York. Whatever annoyance Mr. Waverly may have felt towards his top team for not returning immediately after speaking to the Bigglesworths was dissipated by the praise Scotland Yard had heaped on UNCLE assisting in the rescue of Mary Jones, the woman who was about to be sacrificed. During their debriefing with the Old Man, they looked properly chastened when he demanded that in the future, he expected his orders to be obeyed. They had apologized and were given the Section II version of being sent to sit in the corner: They were to remain in HQ and bring all their paperwork up to date within a week's time.

Napoleon signed off on another team's mission report and looked over at Illya who was busy writing up his overdue lab reports. "Tovarisch, it's after nine o'clock. Let's get out of here. I'm in need of fresh air, old Scotch and an aged steak. In that order, I think."

For once, the Russian agreed right away and stood up to prepare to leave. "Are you cooking?"

Napoleon scowled. "Not even close, let's head to the West Side, stroll through Central Park for a while and then head to this amazing little steakhouse I know about on Sixtieth. Best porterhouses in Manhattan!"

"You want to wander around Central Park at this hour?"

"We just defeated the Devil himself. You think I'm afraid of a few muggers?"

An hour later, the two agents were strolling through the Park. It was a cold, crisp night and it felt like they were the only two people in it. As they walked on the path heading to the West Side Illya asked, "I wonder what the authorities are going to do about Roger Halsey?"

Napoleon shrugged. "He was possessed by Abaddon."

"I know, I injected him with Veritol 19 and he had no information or recollection of any of the last few weeks. When I hit him with Holy Water, Abaddon fled. The two guys we saw bring Mary into the church were the ones who snatched her so they're facing those charges."

"I have to admit, Napoleon, that I had my doubts, at first, about bathtub Holy Water, but it worked. I was amazed."

"So was I."

The Russian stopped in his tracks. "What? You said you could make holy water! That a priest was not necessary!"

"And that's true! Mostly." At the look he got in response he quickly added, "Well, in order for Holy Water to be truly sanctified, it must be blessed by a priest. By sanctifying it myself, I created something that was holy to _me._ I figured if it's holy to me, when I distributed it, it would be holy to everyone because I told you it was Holy Water and you believed it. And it worked."

"Does your holy water cleanse bloodstains?" Illya asked.

Napoleon took one look at his partner and took off at a dead run with the Russian in hot pursuit.


End file.
